


i'm the one with perfect hips

by spaceboy_niko



Series: he likes my taste (he likes my waist) [1]
Category: Sorted (Website) RPF
Genre: Corsetry, Masturbation, Mirror Sex, Other, Platonic Relationships, just bros lacing other bros into corsets yknow, well its mirror jacking off but yknow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 01:17:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17173100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceboy_niko/pseuds/spaceboy_niko
Summary: Barry buys a corset in Switzerland, but there's one problem – he can't get into it on his own yet.





	i'm the one with perfect hips

**Author's Note:**

> this is a prequel to [it's so nice to have a man around the house](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17139221)!

It’s the worst impulse purchase Barry has ever made, as every expensive purchase in another country should be. It was a terrible idea in the first place, it was embarrassing to carry back home, and he has no idea what he’s going to do with it.

He runs up to his room in the ski lodge like someone’s after him, juggling the awkwardly sized box up the stairs and through the door that he slams and locks.

The box is lined with white tissue paper that gets scattered all over his bed, and as Barry holds up the box’s contents, he’s not sure if this was a great decision or a terrible one.

It’s a corset, striped in the most Barry Taylor shade of pink that could possibly exist, with pearlescent clasps at the front and white lacing at the back. The woman in the shop in the red-light district had told him it was real silk, and judging by the price tag and the way it feels under his hands now, she wasn’t lying.

It’s by far the prettiest thing he owns, and when she laced him into it to see how it fitted, he’d never _felt_ prettier, but now that he’s alone in his room he’s starting to see a major problem.

He’s never going to be able to get into it on his own.

He could ask Ben for help, but to his knowledge, Ben is up to his eyebrows working in a hotel kitchen in London somewhere, and besides, he’s _seen_ Ben’s sex toy collection. He’s not sure if he could handle one of Ben’s vibrating buttplugs at the same time as the corset, and he’s very sure that’s what Ben would try.

Mike would just try to steal the damn thing off him, and Barry would probably have to let him. Mike already looks sickening in a dress without a corset, and he doesn’t want to be the enabler for the unstoppable force that is Mike’s universal sex appeal.

So he calls Jamie, praying he’ll pick up for the sake of his international minutes.

Jamie does pick up, surprisingly quickly for Jamie, and there’s a light amusement to his tone. “What’s up, Baz?”

Barry exhales, then says, “I’ve bought something and I need your help.”

“Did you buy a prostitute and now she won’t leave?”

“No, J, I–"

“Did you buy a prostitute and now _he_ won’t leave?”

“Jamie!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop. Did you–”

“Iboughtacorset,” Barry rushes out while he can get a word in.

There’s staticky silence from Jamie’s end, and Barry has never been more nervous.

“You bought a corset,” Jamie repeats back.

“Yep.” _Glad to know Jamie’s so on the ball_ , Barry thinks.

“Why the fuck did you do that?”

“I don’t know!” Barry wails, a lot more panicked than he hoped he’d sound. “It just looks really pretty and I looked really pretty in it, and I saved up, like, five months worth of pay for it, but I can’t get into it on my own and you’re the only person I trust to get me into this thing and not try and tie me up or steal it off me!”

Jamie makes vaguely calming shushing noises, sounding like he’s trying to come to terms with this himself. “Can you show me? Facetime me or something, I wanna know what I’m getting you into.”

Barry rolls his eyes with a disgusted noise at the joke, and hangs up before switching to video call and waiting for the image to buffer.

Once Jamie’s face fills his screen, Barry focuses his own camera onto the corset on his bed. Jamie whistles appreciatively.

“That’s the most Barry Taylor piece of lingerie I’ve ever seen. It’s pink, it’s pretty, and it looks expensive as fuck.”

“Shut up,” Barry says, fighting back a guilty grin as he switches the camera around to his face. “Will you help me into it?”

“Barry, you’re one of my best mates, and if this is something you really want to do, then I’d be more than happy to help you out, but if–“

Barry knows where that train of thought is going.

“No! No no no, I wouldn’t ask you to–"

“Okay, good–"

“Okay–"

They dissolve into laughter as they interrupt each other, and Barry feels good about this now. Jamie acts like laughing gas on Barry’s highly-strung nerves – calms him down, takes away the gravity of the situation, makes him feel all safe and relaxed and happy.

“I’m not coming to Switzerland to tie you into a corset, just so you know.”

“Wouldn’t ask you to do that, would I?”

“Alright then, when do you get back?”

* * *

No one picks Barry up from the airport. He doesn’t think he could look someone he knows in the eye while knowing he’s got a corset for his own pleasure in his suitcase.

Instead, he takes a taxi back to his place, and watches the evening sky darken out the window. It turns out he can’t look someone he doesn’t know in the eye while knowing there’s a corset in his bag.

He doesn’t unpack anything except the corset, takes it out and smooths it out even though it doesn’t need it, and calls Jamie.

“I don’t have anything on this evening,” Jamie says almost as soon as he picks up, “are you okay with me coming over tonight?”

Barry stumbles over some not-words that Jamie takes as a positive.

“Also, I don’t know much about this, but I guess we’ll figure it out, right?”

“Right,” Barry manages, and Jamie hangs up.

Barry spends the next ten minutes working himself up into a tizz, pacing frantically in and out of his room until his doorbell buzzes and he freezes in the living room.

He doesn’t want to let Jamie in, but Jamie has a key and lets himself in and then Barry is standing in his living room totally unprepared for whatever he’s got himself into.

“Hey, Baz,” Jamie says casually, like he’s not about to tie him into lingerie.

“Evening, J,” Barry replies, about an octave higher than he normally would.

“So, how are we doing this?”

“I, uh– it’s–" Barry gestures vaguely in the direction of his room, and Jamie grabs his arm and manhandles him through the door.

Jamie stares at the corset, laying spread out on Barry's bed, and breathes out heavily. “How are we getting you into that?”

Barry wriggles his arm out of Jamie’s grip and delicately picks up the corset. “Clasps at the front, lace at the back, tighten it til I say stop?”

“I don’t think it’s as easy as all that, Baz,” Jamie reasons. “I don’t know your limits, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, I’ll tell you if it doesn’t feel right.”

Barry hands the corset over to Jamie, who takes it gingerly and examines it while Barry strips. He’s not trying to make it look good – Jamie isn’t watching – and stops at his briefs for decency’s sake, shuffling the pair of them towards the mirror.

Jamie undoes the clasps and wraps it around Barry’s abdomen, and it hits Barry that this is a thing that is happening to him, and he is surprisingly okay with it. It feels odd at first – there’s already a definite press at his hips, and he can see the change in the shape of his figure – but it’s almost exciting.

Jamie goes around to his back and takes the laces in hand, and before he can pull Barry says very quickly, “Make sure the back’s all parallel, because I read that you can royally cock up your spine if you do it wrong, and I like my spine the way it is.”

Jamie rearranges a few things and Barry inwardly breathes a sigh of relief, before straightening himself up and actually taking a deep breath in as Jamie begins to tighten the laces.

Like the good friend Barry expected him to be, Jamie has obviously done some reading, even though he said he didn’t know anything. He doesn’t pull the laces straight back, instead out to the sides, nor does he tie them off straight away, and goes along methodically, watching Barry for any kind of discomfort.

Barry is in awe.

It’s a bit surreal, watching his waist shrink in front of him. He almost doesn’t connect the image in front of him with the squeeze happening around his middle – the sensation is deliciously detached from the sight in front of him.

Jamie pulls once more and Barry makes a strangled noise. “J, Jamie, nope, that’s good, we’re good!”

Jamie immediately stops. “Tie it off, or do you need me to loosen it a bit?”

Barry contemplates saying it’s fine, but realises Jamie will never forgive him for lying about what he's comfortable with. “Tiny bit looser?”

Jamie complies, and as he’s tied up, Barry feels distinctly more comfortable.

And there he is. Barry Taylor, with a gorgeous hourglass figure and better posture than he’s ever had in his life, in a corset.

“Very pretty,” Jamie says, somewhat awkwardly.

“Thanks, J,” Barry says with utmost sincerity in his voice. “Really, thank you.”

“No problem. Can you get out on your own, or…?”

Barry nods, and Jamie looks relieved.

“Well, I’ll leave you to, I don’t know, look at yourself a bit more. Have fun, call me if you’re stuck or something.”

“Will do.”

Jamie lets himself out, and the thud of the door closing leaves Barry alone with his mirror.

He moves differently in the corset, he notices – he’s more graceful, somehow more feminine, even the parts of him that don’t appear to be directly affected by it. Maybe it’s a character thing.

One thing he does know is that this is definitely going to become a sex thing for him, if the warm feeling in the pit of his stomach and the no longer awkward hard-on he’s got is anything to go by.

He strokes himself through his briefs, ignoring the clash between the bright blue and the pale pink, and he has a sudden thought of being on all fours, corset holding his back rigid, with someone behind him opening him up with their tongue, fucking into him with their fingers, and being barely able to move, and the thought makes him stifle a moan and tighten his grip around himself.

Maybe it’s Ben, who would stuff him full with one of his plugs, leave bruises and bites all along his thighs, stretch him out around it with his tongue until he came all over the bedsheets.

Maybe it’s Mike, who would fuck him with his fingers while licking teasingly at his cock, bringing him to the edge and then back down, bringing him to tears because the stimulation is just so overwhelming.

Or maybe it’s James, who he’s sure would want him on his back where he’d be totally at James’ mercy, who would fuck him hard and fast and rough, holding him down at his tiny waist and treating him like a doll that couldn’t possibly break.

Barry moves his hand faster, bites his lip, and comes in his underwear with a quiet swear.

He strips out of his sticky briefs and tosses them somewhere in his room, but keeps the corset on as he flops onto his bed, worn out from the flight and the lacing and the orgasm.

In his mind’s eye, he looks like a prostitute from a historical drama, stripped down and used and thrown aside like a toy.

He fucking loves it.

**Author's Note:**

> heck yeah prequels!!!
> 
> i started writing this almost instantly after i finished the original which is the most fucken dedicated i've been to an idea since ever, and this could have been a perfectly sfw platonic corsetry fic but nooooo
> 
> cheers once again to the sorted discord for allowing me to yell about corsets and the mafia and my girlfriend
> 
> (title is from attention whore by deadmau5)


End file.
